Believing Is Seeing
by MelissaeWrites
Summary: Jack skates short track, but he plays the long game. (Jackrabbit, Jack/Aster)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a WIP that I started awhile back, just before the Olympics started. I've been wanting to continue it and I've just now started doing that, so I'm posting what I've got up on AO3 here.

* * *

When Jack woke up that morning, he knew without a doubt that something important was going to happen. There was a thrill of anticipation deep in his bones that caused him to throw his covers off without a second thought and roll out of bed. He yelped as his feet hit chilly floorboards, and dressed quickly to avoid freezing. The heater was on full blast, but it was an old house. It still got chilly during the winter, and this particular winter felt like it was going to last forever.

Even though it was (an admittedly early) Easter, a thick layer of snow still coated the ground. Jack had a feeling that the Easter egg hunt later that day might run into some trouble, but he wasn't really sure he wanted to go anyway. Now that he was almost twelve, he was starting to get a little too old for baby stuff like the Easter Bunny. But his mom would probably make him take Emma...

He sighed and looked at the clock. Just after seven. He had eons before they had to leave for the egg hunt. There was more than enough time for him to sneak out and go skating. Even though it was almost the end of March, the lake near their house was still frozen solid, and for some reason, skating was exactly what he wanted to do today.

He crept down the stairs as quietly as possible. He grabbed his skates from the hall closet and was almost at the front door when-"Jack!"

He turned around to see his sister behind him. She was still in her pajamas, blue with red robots on them, and she was rubbing at her eyes. "Jack, you're not going skating, are you? Mama says it's too late in the year to go skating," she said, a hint of something accusatory in her small voice.

Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not _that_ late, Emma..."

"Jaaaack," she whined, but she had a light in her eyes that Jack recognized after more than eight long years dealing with it.

"Look," he said entreatingly, "If I take you with me, will you be quiet?"

Bingo. Suddenly, she was all smiles. "Sure! Let me get on my boots!"

It took awhile for him to get her properly dressed, but it wasn't much more than a half hour later that they arrived at the little lake. It wasn't that deep, but even shallow water could be dangerous this time of year. Jack gave the ice an appraising look, but he couldn't see any signs of thinning. "Looks good," he said, flashing a grin at his sister, and walked over to help her lace her skates up.

Soon enough, they were both gliding over frozen ice. Emma was still a little wobbly, but she hadn't been skating for as long as Jack had. He could quite literally skate circles around his little sister-or he could before his mom made him stop. He skated with a natural speed and grace that made his parents look sideways at each other. He'd heard them talking one evening about maybe scraping up the money to get him lessons at a real rink. He hadn't said anything about it, though. Maybe they were saving it for his birthday.

Lost in thoughts of his maybe present, Jack didn't notice that Emma had stopped skating until he heard a sickening crack. Before he even turned to see, he knew what it was. He'd heard that sound only once before, and he'd hoped to never hear it again.

Sure enough, his sister was perched at the apex of a series of cracks that radiated outwards away from her. Even from his position at the other end of the lake, he could see that she was trying not to cry.

He skated as close to her as he possibly could and scanned the ice for anything he could use to grab her. He noticed a large stick not too far away and edged towards it. He had a plan, but it wasn't a good one. As far as he could tell, only one of them was going to get out of this one, and it didn't take him more than a second to figure out which of them it would be. She was his little sister, too young to be gone so quickly, and it was his fault that she was out here in the first place. There was no way he could let her fall through the ice.

"Hey Emma," Jack said, picking up the stick. "Do you want to play a little game?"

"A game? What do you-"

"Just a little game. Just hop, like this," he said, gesturing down to his feet. "Just one," he said, taking a little step, careful not to break the ice further. "Two," he said, waving at her to come closer. "Three!" he said, and when she stepped towards him, he swung out with the stick, pulling Emma towards him as he fell forward to take her place.

"Jack?" Emma's voice was high and frightened.

"It's okay, Emma, really. Go home and get mom and dad. They can help." He wasn't sure how, but he didn't want her to see this. He had to be the big brother now, help Emma out when she needed him, just like his parents had always told him.

"O-okay," she stammered out, then ran back to the banks and took off, stumbling only long enough to tear her skates off before she ran in stockinged feet back in the direction of their house.

He watched her go, and felt the ice shift.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing out there?"

Jack looked up at the sound of a heavily accented voice, but before he could see its owner, the ice opened up beneath him. He couldn't hear anything after that.

* * *

For years after that, his parents tried to find answers about what had happened that day between the time when Emma had run home to get them and they had arrived to find their unconscious son spread out by the side of the lake, warm, dry, and inexplicably changed.

"What happened to your hair, Jack?" How could a healthy preteen boy's hair turn pure white? How could his _eyes _change color to match?

Jack felt like he'd been asked that question by dozens of different doctors, and when he'd answered it, they'd started sending him to a wholly different kind of doctor. "It was the moon," he'd said. "And the Easter Bunny. The Easter Bunny dove into the lake and saved me, and then he asked the moon to help me. And he did."

And it had been as simple as that, really. To this day, though, Jack had yet to find a single person who believed him. Even Emma had to admit that she had seen no one around the lake before Jack had fallen through the ice. No voice. No rabbit. No moon.

Jack knew what he had seen, though. He had wondered a few times if maybe he had made it up in some kind of frozen delirium. After all, there was no reason for the moon to be out in the middle of the morning and giant rabbits didn't exist. But he didn't think there was any way to make up that rich voice calling out desperately for the moon's help, or the feeling of sodden fur that still somehow exuded warmth as it pressed against his chest. Those memories were too vivid. Sometimes he could still feel that touch against his skin.

As he got older, however, he learned to stop talking about it. No one wanted to hear about giant rabbits and a magical moon. So he lied, shook his head, said he didn't remember. And eventually, they had to accept it. He was put down in the books as a medical miracle. His therapist told his parents that maybe they should try to find him a good outlet for these obviously muddled feelings.

And that was how he found himself a part of the local speedskating team. It was the one good thing that had come out of the whole debacle, in his opinion. His sister still refused to go anywhere near ice, he still had nightmares about inky black water, and he'd heard enough of his parents' tears to last several lifetimes. But at least he had this. The minute he laid foot on the rink, he knew somehow, deeply, intrinsically, that he had come home. And he was _good._ He started winning competitions, and for better or for worse, that therapist's advice bore fruit. Jack, for the first time in his life, felt centered.

* * *

The year Jack turned eighteen, Easter came early again. And against every ounce of better judgment he possessed, he found himself out on that lake again, skating alone in the still, frigid morning. He knew how stupid he was being, and how his mom would have about six conniptions at the mere thought of him doing this again after what happened last time, but there was something restless in his bones that caused him to ignore all common sense and tug on his skates.

He skated on the ice slowly, meditatively. The ice was a lot rougher than he remembered, but maybe he was just used to smoother ice now. _Safer ice, _his common sense reminded him, and he shoved it down ruthlessly. In all honesty, he knew where this small rebellion was coming from. He would be graduating from high school soon and this was maybe the last chance he had to understand what had really happened to him all those years ago. And if he were really truthful with himself, he'd admit that he was hoping to catch a glimpse of long, gray ears.

Jack was just about an adult nowadays. He knew very well that things like the Easter Bunny weren't supposed to exist. No one his age actually believed in the Easter Bunny. But he couldn't let go of a fading memory tinged with frost and the scent of coming spring. No, he wasn't quite ready to give up on the rabbit quite yet.

He was just starting to skate backwards, a habit that had not been encouraged by his mother, when he heard it.

"Bloody show pony."

Jack was so startled that he nearly fell on his rear end right there in the middle of the lake. He knew that voice. He_ knew_ that voice! He skidded to an unceremonious stop and looked around wildly for the source of the voice.

Sure enough, there was a figure standing off by a small copse of trees twirling something small and bright in his fingers. His _paws,_ Jack corrected, realizing with a start that there was actually a giant rabbit standing next to the edge of the lake. He was smaller than Jack remembered, or maybe Jack had grown, but he looked far more dangerous than Jack had envisioned as well. He only had half-remembered bits of sensory memory: wet fur, tickling whiskers, warm breath on the back of his neck. He didn't remember the designs that curled through the rabbit's fur, he didn't remember piercing green eyes, and he certainly didn't remember the weaponry. "Oh my god."

The rabbit started, then looked around as if there were some other onlooker that Jack could be staring at. "Wait," it said, then hopped (hopped!) closer to the bank. "You can see me?"

"Of course I can!" Jack said. His voice was just a little bit too loud, too high-pitched, but really, who could blame him? It was the goddamn Easter Bunny!

"No, that's not right," the rabbit said, and after a moment Jack realized that he was talking to himself. "He shouldn't be able to see us at this age."

"What are you talking about?" Jack cut in. "Wait, 'us'?"

The rabbit blanched as best he could. "Now you just forget about that one, you flighty little yobbo," he said, scowling. "Aren't you a little old to believe in the Easter Bunny?"

Jack was fairly sure that his face did something complicated at that. The thing standing right in front of him was telling him that he shouldn't be believing in him. Maybe those doctors were right. Maybe he was crazy. He skated right up to the bank of the lake so he could get a better look at his companion. Then, without warning, he reached out and pinched him.

"Ouch!" the rabbit yelped.

Jack shrugged. "It didn't hurt much." It couldn't have, considering he'd mostly gotten a handful of fur.

"What are you going around pinching people for, ya wanker?" the rabbit demanded with a glare.

Jack tried to put on his best innocent face. From the look on the rabbit's face, it was not nearly innocent enough. "I was trying to figure out if you were real?" he tried.

"You're supposed to pinch _yourself _for that!"

Jack grinned. "Yeah, but that doesn't seem like nearly as much fun."

"Why I oughtta-"

"Hey," Jack said, taking a cautious step back and holding his hands up in front of him. "Are you going to save my life just to kill me again?"

At that, the rabbit stopped stock still and finally looked at him, really looked. "You're the boy that fell in the water," he finally said, his eyes uncomfortably shrewd.

Jack shrugged again. "Yeah. It's hard to stop believing in the Easter Bunny after something like that."

The rabbit's nose twitched, and Jack had to swallow a mad giggle. "You've been doing all right, then? Since that day?"

"Yeah. I've been doing great." Jack smiled at him truly this time. Sure, some parts hadn't been exactly fun-but the fact he was there at all having a conversation with this strange creature who had saved his life was a blessing in and of itself. In fact... Jack put the tip of one of his fingers in his mouth so he could pull his glove off with his teeth, then dropped it into his other hand. He put out his bare hand with a friendly grin. "Hi. My name is Jack Overland."

The rabbit gave his hand a deeply suspicious look that would have offended Jack had he not noticed that the rabbit didn't have the best social skills anyway, then took it in one of his paws. "E. Aster Bunnymund."

Jack shook his hand, then paused for a minute before breaking out into laughter. "Wait, your name is Easter? Really? For real?"

Aster scowled and yanked his paw back. "Oi, belt up."

"No, it-" Jack broke off into helpless giggles again. "It suits you."

"You know, some of us do have jobs to do, brat."

At the mention of this, Jack finally noticed that Aster was carrying a large basket of brightly colored eggs that sparkled with a glittering shine that was not quite earthly. "Oh jeez. You really are the Easter Bunny, aren't you?" Which meant that the overgrown rabbit would probably be on his way any minute.

"Nah, mate, I'm the bloody Groundhog," Aster said, rolling his eyes. "Of course I am."

"Will you-" Jack stopped himself, realized that his voice was letting out far too much of what he was feeling. "Will you be back again?"

For the first time, Aster's gaze softened. It was as if he finally realized the enormity of this encounter, what meeting his savior actually meant to Jack. "Yeah. I'll be back next year, Jacko. I come 'round every Easter-kind of in the job description," he said, gentling his voice. He looked away then to rummage around in his basket, then pulled out a small, frost-colored egg which he presented to Jack. "Here you go, mate. Something to remember me by."

"Thanks," Jack said, ignoring the lump rising up in his throat. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd ever planned to do if his furry savior had shown up again, but playful bickering by the side of a frozen lake had not been high up on his list. Somehow, though, he found that he couldn't complain one bit. He took the egg and placed it safe in the pocket of his heavy coat.

"G'bye, Jack," Aster said, and Jack just barely managed a nod in reply. He watched the rabbit go, his movements surprisingly lithe for a creature so large. And then Aster paused and turned just a bit. Jacked tensed up, waiting.

"Jack?" Aster called back over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Jack asked, heart in his throat.

"Stay off the ice, ya bloody drongo. D'you have a death wish or something?"

Startled out of his melancholy, Jack couldn't help but laugh long and loud.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I realized as I was editing this chapter for that I use daffodils a lot in my work. Oh well. They're my favorite flower and the one that, to me, really embodies spring.

* * *

The next year, Easter fell in mid-April, and Jack found himself wandering around a field of daffodils next to a glimmering blue lake while he waited for Aster. It still felt a bit silly to do, but last year, he had... He had felt some kind of _connection_ with the giant rabbit, and whether it was a just the life debt he owed him or something more, Jack felt a deep and pressing need to see him again. So he'd come back home for the weekend, surprised his mother with hugs and stories of a freshman skater starting to settle into his new life. And he'd sneaked out again this morning, just like he had the year before. Liquid or not, Jack knew that his family still mistrusted the lake he was currently pacing next to.

"You're gonna wear a hole in the grass if you're not careful, mate."

Jack looked up and instantly brightened as he caught a look at his new-old friend leaning against an old oak tree just starting to bloom-a tree that Jack was almost positive hadn't had more than the beginning of buds a few minutes ago. "Aster!"

Aster looked much the same as he had the year before, tall and sleek and furry, and wearing nothing but a bandolier and an exasperated smile. "G'day there, Jacko. How've ya been?" he asked, shaking his head to cover his smile.

Jack felt no need to hide his. "I've been good! I've just started college and it's been really great!"

Aster looked less enthused. "College-age believers," he muttered to himself, "What's next, adults putting teeth under their pillows?"

Jack ignored him and continued, "And the rink they've got there is so much nicer than the local one."

"Oh?" Aster asked, ears perking up. "So it's not just lakes you skate on, then?"

"Nah, a speedskater," Jack said, then gave him a somewhat devilish grin. "Short track."

"Oh? And what's that?" Aster asked. Jack wasn't entirely sure if he was feigning interest or not, so he just decided to assume that the question had been meant earnestly. Jack was going to answer it that way regardless.

"It's like normal speedskating, but with more chaos," Jack said, grinning even wider. "It's a smaller track, so it's a bunch of people on in a small rink going top speed and trying not to run into each other or the wall. Too hard, anyway."

Aster snorted. "So you're into a more dangerous version of an already dangerous sport. Somehow I'm not surprised."

Now it was Jack's turn to scowl. "You know I don't really have a death wish, right? I just like to skate," he said.

"I've noticed," Aster answered dryly. The look on his face was strangely pensive, and Jack had the sudden urge to explain himself.

"It's just-" Jack shifted his weight as he grasped for words. "I feel at home on the ice. Like I was meant to be there. Like I was _born_ to be there. Even when I was just a kid, I would always sneak out and go skating. As soon as I'm on the ice, I don't have to think about anything else. It's like a whole other world where you're completely free. You're not even bound by the usual laws of physics anymore." At Aster's unimpressed look, he added, "Well, you are, but it doesn't feel like it. It feels like you can fly."

Aster shook his head. "See, I _have _flown, Snowbird, and it's not something meant for the likes of us." He tapped his feet on the grass. "Both feet firmly on the ground. That's how I like it," he said. "And what are you grinning about?"

Jack shook his head. "Snowbird," he answered with a playful grin.

Aster made a flustered sound and looked away, clearly embarrassed. Jack had a feeling that if he could get close enough to see under all that fur, the skin there would be flushed. "Well, all that talk about flying-and you're certainly flighty enough, Jacko, believe you me."

"Yeah, sure," Jack said, strolling closer to his furry friend. "I think it's cute."

Aster's ears went back slightly, like he didn't quite know what to make of this young man coming into personal space that was not often invaded. "Do you now?"

"Yep," Jack answered, then grinned. "I think you like me."

Aster scoffed at that. "What, an irresponsible little larrikin like you?"

Jack laughed. "I have no idea what that is. But I'm gonna go with yes." And all the sudden, all joking aside, he knew that he was right. Maybe Aster felt the pull of the life debt just as Jack did. After all, it was a hard thing to forget. Maybe it was hard to dislike a person after you saved their life. There was a bond there between them, tentative enough that he shied away from poking too hard at it lest it break. He wasn't sure what he would do without it.

So he took a step back, covered the action with hands on his hips and a cheeky quirk to his lips. He tried not to take offense when Aster immediately relaxed. "Don't feel bad, Aster. I'm a tough guy not to like."

"Pfft," Aster said, waving a paw, "You just keep telling yourself that, Jacko." Despite his words, though, his tone was fond.

There was a brief silence then while both of them struggled for something to say. Jack didn't like it; silence always made the back of his neck itch. "So, what," Jack asked, scuffing his shoe against a patch of clover, "Are you always nice and responsible? Never need a shot of adrenaline like the rest of us?" He was going to have to examine why teasing seemed to be his default way of communicating with Aster.

Aster snorted derisively. "Don't have time to be irresponsible, mate. Getting eggs out to six continents before all the children wake up isn't exactly a picnic. And that's putting aside dogs, cars, _bears,_ morning joggers, and college-aged yobbos who don't let a bloke do his job."

Jack just grinned impishly. As irritated as Aster sounded, he could tell it was a put on. "You love it, though, don't you? If it were easy, it wouldn't be fun," he said. Then he looked closer at Aster, who was looking a little shifty. "You _are_ an adrenaline junkie, aren't you? You like the obstacles!"

"Well, it's not as if they're ever that much of a worry," Aster said with a wink. "You'd have to wake up pretty early in the morning to catch a rabbit."

"Oh?" Jack asked, eyes turning sly. "Like you could catch me on the ice."

Aster threw back his head and laughed, and Jack was temporarily stunned at the rich sound of it. "We'll have to give it a go sometime, then, see who ends up catching whom," he said, and for a second, Jack burned for that day.

Then he shook himself off, refusing to wonder where that sharp pang of longing had come from. It was getting pretty bad if he was getting that lonely. Might want to take the training down a notch. (Nah.) He looked at Aster, whose expression had gone far away as he looked out through the trees, and Jack followed his eyes. Orange light was starting to stream through the trees, and Jack realized with a start that more time had passed than he'd realized. The fresh twilight of a new morning was already giving way to dawn. "You have to go, don't you?"

"Yeah." And Jack could see real regret there, a fact which warmed him to his toes. "Still got a few time zones to go before I'm done." Then Aster bent behind a tree and pulled out his basket of eggs. For the briefest of seconds, Jack could see indecision in Aster's usually confident posture, but it was just as quickly dismissed and Aster reached into the basket. "Got another egg for you, Snowbird."

"For me?"

Aster pulled a small egg out of the basket. "Yeah, for you. The Easter Bunny's always got an egg for a Believer." Jack could hear the capitalization there, knew that Aster was talking about something in particular. But there was no time to talk about it now.

He scrambled across the field, nearly tripping over a rock in his haste to get to where Aster stood. "Gimme."

Aster shook his head, but he still held out the egg, which Jack took and immediately held close. The egg he had gotten last time had been the color of fresh frost, pale blue with an ethereal sparkle to it. It had been lovely, but a bit impersonal. This time, Jack had no doubt that Aster had personally made an egg with Jack in mind. It was pale blue again, but this egg was painted with intricate geometric designs of navy and white that together seemed to form shapes that were not quite flowers and not quite snowflakes. It was, in a word, "Beautiful." Jack looked up at Aster, whose ears were laid back against his skull again in embarrassment. "Seriously, Aster, this is great."

Aster made an aborted movement, as if he wanted to take a step towards Jack but at the last second tore himself away. "Weren't no big thing, Jacko. It's my job."

Jack's lips quirked up at the edges, a smile which couldn't quite be contained. "Sure, Aster. Thanks."

Aster waved one great paw at him, then turned to go. "Yeah, yeah. You take care of yourself, Jack," he said.

"You too," Jack called, even as the rabbit disappeared. He looked down at his egg again, light and fragile enough that Jack knew this was one to keep. Whatever else he didn't know about his new friend, he knew that his jumbled half-feelings were not one-sided.

* * *

A/N:

I had Polish pisanki eggs in mind for what Aster gave Jack this Easter.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Next time, it's 2010 and Jack has to learn to deal with disappointment and hope.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This was originally written for an Olympics challenge during Sochi, so that's where this fic is going to end up. The Olympics referred to in this chapter are the Vancouver Olympics. (And uh, no hard feelings towards any silver medalist at Vancouver. Y'all are great, I'm sure.)

* * *

A little bit less than one year later, Jack was lying flat on his back in the middle of those same daffodils. An obnoxiously large, black walking cast encased his right leg, and his crutches were laid out next to him. He fought the urge to sigh for about the hundredth time. He could not wait until he was out of this thing.

He waited a few more minutes for Aster to make his appearance, and then he gave in. He sighed, loud and long, into the cool morning air. This sucked.

"Quite the bellows you've got there, Snowbird."

Jack sprang up onto his elbows and craned his neck until he caught a glimpse of his friend. Aster had somehow gotten a lot closer than Jack had expected while he was distracted, and Jack had to physically restrain himself from jumping when he realized just how close he had gotten to looming. "Aster!"

Aster crouched down next to him and clucked over the cast. "Looks like you took a spill there, Jacko. Was it your more-chaotic-than-usual-skating lack of a death wish?" he asked, giving Jack's leg a scrutinizing eye.

Jack just sighed again. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Yeah. Ran into another guy during training. Fractured both bones in my ankle."

"Hmm." Aster laid a paw on Jack's leg and winced as if that light touch had told him something. "Training for what?"

Jack couldn't help but boggle at him a little bit over that. "You really don't get out much, do you? There was this little thing two months ago, nothing big, just _the Olympics?_" he said, eyebrows climbing up into his hair line. Surely even a magical creature would notice a worldwide event like that.

Aster sat back on his haunches. "The Olympics? I thought that was only for pros," he said, and the bastard had the audacity to actually sound confused.

"I _am_ a professional!" Jack snapped, sitting up so he could more properly glare. "I've been competing in the World Championships since I was 16!"

Aster's mouth opened, then closed. Jack didn't know whether to feel gratified or annoyed at how shocked he looked. Then finally, he looked away, fixing his gaze back on Jack's ankle. "I see. So you were going to skate at the Olympics?" he asked, an odd note to his voice. Jack had to strain to hear it, but he was pretty sure that there was something like embarrassment and regret there. Maybe even grief.

Jack breathed out slowly, reminding himself that there really was no way Aster could have known if he wasn't following human sports at all. And why would he? It's not as if he were human. Their lives only briefly intersected once a year. He had no idea what Aster even did with the rest of his life. When he finally answered, his voice was dull. "Yeah. I officially made the team a few months ago, and I-it's not as if I was going to medal or anything. But I was so excited just to go..." He swallowed hard, tamping down the bitter disappointment that had been his constant companion for the last two months. "But we'd just gotten there when I had the accident. I spent almost the entire games in the hospital recovering from the surgery." He'd never forget the blinding pain or the sudden, sure knowledge that he was out of the games.

Aster still crouched next to him, still and quiet. "And the other guy?"

Jack laughed shortly. "Got a fucking silver."

"Oh, Jack," Aster murmured, and then did the last thing Jack expected. He pulled him into a sideways hug.

Jack froze for a moment, unsure what to do, but then allowed himself to relax into Aster's hold. He turned his face into Aster's shoulder and let himself breathe in his scent, warm and grassy and just a little bit earthy. At that moment, cradled against impossibly soft fur and a solid body, that scent was the most comforting smell in the world. He'd been hugged a number of times since the collision, by his coach and his teammates and by his entire family, but there was something different about this one. It was familiar and yet not, simultaneously calling him back to the muted terror of a childhood nightmare and reminding him of the strange sort-of friendship they had now. It was the most vulnerable he'd ever felt, and he could feel the fragility laced over his bones, over his life. It was being human, and for a moment, he had never despised being something more.

He felt the tears welling up in the back of his throat even before he could feel Aster's rumbled "let it out, Snowbird" and then he was crying for the first time since the accident. He buried his head in Aster's shoulder and sobbed. He sobbed for pain and for lost opportunities, and he sobbed because he would never again live without the knowledge that happiness was ephemeral, balanced on a steel blade and so, so tenuous. He sobbed knowing that when he'd heard that snap, he'd lost the last bit of innocent childhood that had been clinging to his young frame.

Through it all, Aster just held him close and occasionally stroked his hair. He murmured nonsense sounds at him as he cried, half-formed words that were meant more as comfort than as answers, and Jack soaked up the attention.

It couldn't have lasted too long, no more than ten or fifteen minutes, but when he was done, Jack felt absolutely exhausted. He pulled away eventually, wiping at his eyes as he went. "I'm sorry."

Aster shook his head and gave Jack an awkward pat on the shoulder. "No worries, Jacko. We all need a good cry now and again."

"I just-I was so _close,_ Aster," Jack said, his voice still thick with emotion. It had been at the very tips of his fingers before it had gotten away from him, and that was perhaps what hurt most of all.

"I know, mate. And you'll get there again. You're what, twenty? You'll have another chance. And this time you'll be even better," Aster said. He sounded awfully sure for a rabbit who hadn't even believed that he was capable of going to the Olympics a half hour ago, and Jack couldn't help a watery chuckle at that.

"Nineteen," he replied, and Aster gave him a questioning look. "My birthday's not until May."

"Good," Aster said with a decisive nod. "Nice spring birthday. It's good luck."

Jack shrugged, looking down again. "I don't feel very lucky," he muttered.

"Sure you are," Aster said dismissively. "You have a second chance. You'll probably have more chances than that. And you have the strength to take them." Jack must have looked unconvinced because he added, "The boy I pulled out of that lake all those years ago was a fighter. The Moon saw something special in you, otherwise he wouldn't have helped me save you. And I see it, too, Jack." He looked Jack up and down, lingering at his ankle and at his face. "You won't let this keep you down for too long."

Jack felt something warm growing under his diaphragm then, and it took him a moment to identify it as hope. It wasn't something he'd felt much over the past couple months. He smiled as he looked down, a private sort of smile that he wouldn't show to just anyone. Somehow, Aster didn't feel like just anyone.

"There we go," Aster said, as if something important had been decided, then moved forward to crouch next to Jack's leg. "D'you mind if I try something here, Jack?"

"Uh." Jack wasn't entirely sure he wanted a giant rabbit handling his damaged ankle, but Aster had never given him reason to distrust him in the past. "Okay?"

Aster laid his paws on Jack's leg and without warning, Jack started to feel a warmth start to seep into his skin. It felt like the warmth of the sun on a spring day soaking into his skin, loosening muscles, strengthening bones. Nothing moved or hurt or anything as ostentatious as all that, but something seemed indescribably different after Aster took his paws from Jack's ankle, and it was with some trepidation that he asked, "What did you do?"

"Not all that much," Aster admitted. "I'm no healer. But I've got some control over life and growth. I can give things a little nudge, remind them what they should be doing and which way's forward."

Jack felt his cheeks redden. Seems like Aster had been doing that for him in more ways than one. "Thanks," he muttered, then looked up with a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there in far too long. "Who would have guessed? The Easter Bunny has magic."

"And more than just that besides, bucko," Aster said, a smile finally crinkling his features.

Jack smiled back helplessly, but then his face clouded as he realized the time. They'd been sitting there for at least forty-five minutes, if not an hour. "Wait, shit, did I get you off schedule?" he asked, suddenly casting around for his crutches.

Aster shook his head as if at some private joke, then stood up and stretched. "Don't worry about that one, Snowbird. I worked a bit faster than usual to put aside some time for you this year, and I can make up some time over the west coast. She'll be apples, mate," he said, leaning down to offer Jack his paws.

Jack wordlessly took them, and tried not to squeak when Aster pulled him up off the ground in one smooth motion that put barely any pressure on his ankle. It was then, standing there with his hands wrapped around Aster's forearms for balance, that he finally gave in to temptation and surged forward to hook his arms around Aster's waist. He pressed his face once more against soft, soft fur and hugged Aster close. "Thank you," he finally said. "For everything." For hope.

Though he had initially stiffened at the unexpected contact, Aster relaxed at this. It was as if he'd heard something unsaid, and he just gave a throaty chuckle that Jack could feel reverberating in his chest. "Like I said, Snowbird. No worries. Just doing my job," he said, wrapping his own arms around Jack and patting him on the back. "Ah, speaking of which," he began, and started to pull away, then thought better of it. "Er, let me help you with your crutches, Jacko."

Once Jack was standing on his own strength, Aster went to busy himself with the basket of eggs that had apparently been sitting behind them all the time. 'Doing his job'? Jack wasn't sure what he thought of that. Regardless of what the Easter Bunny's unknown duties were, no part of what they had just shared felt businesslike. Jack's musings were cut off, however, when Aster reappeared with the egg that Jack was starting to expect at the end of each visit. "Here you go, mate."

Jack shuffled his weight so he could take the egg as gently as possible. This one was another blown egg: light, fragile, and for a permanent collection. He turned it over in his hands, marveling at its intricate pattern. This one had been dyed a midnight blue, but Aster had found some way to keep delicate white paths dye-free. The white lines spiraled around the egg in feathery designs, bringing to mind chill winds on a winter day. "How did you-"

"Trade secret," Aster replied with an impish look. "I'll be seeing you, Jack."

"Yeah," Jack said, looking away. He focused on his egg so he wouldn't have to watch Aster leave, so he was surprised when Aster took a step towards him instead.

"Hey, Jack?" Aster said, and there was a hesitance in his voice that Jack might have called vulnerable if he didn't know better. "If you wanted to be out in the evening next year, we might have more time to talk. Should be done with egg duty by seven or so your time."

"Really?" Jack asked, before he could stop himself. He winced at the eagerness in his voice, but Aster didn't seem bothered.

"Yeah, really. You're pretty far along on the route here, and if you don't mind a tired rabbit, I'll be all yours."

"I-" Jack knew he was turning red at that turn of phrase, but Aster either didn't notice or was determinedly ignoring it. "Yeah, sure. I'll be out here waiting for you."

Aster gave him a true smile at that point, and it was like the sun coming out on a spring morning. "Right. Right then. I'll see you next year, then, Snowbird," he said, and with a wave, he was on his way.

This time, Jack was able to watch him go.

* * *

A/N:

The eggs this time were created using a form of resist dyeing. In this case, Aster likely used wax. If you want to do something like this at home, rubber cement makes it really easy. An even easier method (if a little less effective) is to just draw on your eggs with white crayon before you dunk them.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Next time, Jack starts to learn a little more about the secret ways of the world.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I posted this chapter (the last one that I had written) on the morning of the first short track event at Sochi. This is the A/N I posted at that time:

"Hi! Another chapter. I was gonna save it for tomorrow, but I thought I'd post it today in honor of the first short track events at Sochi. (PS, congrats to the winners! I'd put their names here, but I know a lot of people haven't watched yet.)

As an aside, all of the events of this fic are fully planned at this point, down to the times and Olympic placing. None of the actual events at Sochi are going to be influencing the plot of this fic, though I did incorporate some details like what Sochi uniforms look like and such. I have a lot of conflicted feelings about Sochi itself and the way things are being handled there, but I still love the Olympics. So while I'm using Sochi as a setting, I'm using it as a somewhat fictionalized setting.

All that aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter!"

Anyway, after that, I got hurt. Hence the looooong hiatus. Back to work!

* * *

Easter fell late that year, and even though it was early evening, Jack still had no need for the hoodie he carried in his arms. He'd taken it just in case; when he'd told his parents he was going for a walk after dinner, his father had fussed at him until he'd agreed to take a jacket with him. Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at the thought. It wasn't as if he spent half his life on ice or anything. Since Vancouver, he'd cut down on his already light course load and thrown himself into his training. He'd lost a lot of time to recuperation and physical therapy, and it was only with grueling twelve hour training days that he was finally starting to get back to where he'd been a year ago. With luck, he'd be even better than he had been a year ago before he started in on the competition circuit again. It was easier to think about that kind of thing with hope now instead of despair, and Jack knew exactly who to thank for that.

With that in mind, Jack peered around the clearing for any sign of his friend. He hadn't been able to get out of his house until a little ways after seven and the evening light was already starting to dim. Sunset couldn't have been too far off, and Jack never would have forgiven himself if he'd managed to miss Aster. It scared him a little when he thought about how much he'd come to look forward to their brief meetings, and he regularly reminded himself that he and Aster knew very little about each other. He didn't know about Aster's job or his family, and before last year, Aster hadn't even known what Jack was working so hard for. Still, as much as he would have liked to, it was hard to deny that the days went by more slowly when Easter was on its way, and his heart always sped up when the moment of truth was near.

Like it was now. Jack's heart was beating so hard and so fast that he was sure that Aster would be able to find him just from the sound of it. He was so focused on the quick _th-thump_ of his heartbeat that he almost missed the sound of a cracking branch behind him. He spun around, instantly tensing before he realized exactly who he was looking at. He sighed. "Jeez, Aster, you scared the bejeezus out of me."

Aster gave him a tired grin. "Evening, Jack," he said, and his voice was just casual enough that Jack was suddenly and unequivocally sure that that had been his game all along. "How's the leg?"

Jack looked down at his ankle and wiggled his foot in a little circle pointedly. "Way better. It healed a lot more quickly than any of the doctors thought it would." He gave Aster a knowing look. "How 'bout that?"

The corners of Aster's eyes crinkled up when he smiled, and Jack couldn't help but grin back in response. "Funny how that works," he replied. He came a bit further into the clearing with a lurching hop, then seated himself on a large rock not too far away from the lake where they'd first met. He sighed deeply, and Jack had to fight back the sudden, inane urge to pet his ears in comfort.

Instead, Jack simply trailed after him and plopped himself on the ground next to the rock. "Long day?"

"You have no idea, Snowbird. More than 190 countries and two billion children are a lot to cover in one day, even with magic," he said, and Jack could hear every step he'd taken in the weary tone of his voice.

"Wow," was all Jack could think to say. But seriously, _wow._ "Don't you have any help?"

"Well, some of the googies have gotten right good at hiding themselves," Aster said thoughtfully, "But other than that, it's just yours truly." At Jack's incredulous look, he chuckled lowly. "Don't worry yourself over it, Jacko. I like it better that way. I'd never have the patience to command troops like some of the others do."

"Others?" Jack latched onto this eagerly. "There are others?"

"Of course there are," Aster said, quirking an eyebrow. "What, is Easter the only holiday you lot celebrate?"

Jack scooted closer. "Well, no, but most people don't believe in spirits or whatever for the others." He leaned his head back so he could size Aster up. "Then again, most people don't exactly believe in the Easter Bunny, either."

"Most _adults_ don't," Aster corrected, reaching down to ruffle Jack's hair and laughing when he spluttered. "If the children stopped believing, well, then we'd have a problem."

Jack smoothed back his hair and attempted a glare, but he was far too interested to keep it up for long. "What kind of problem?" he asked.

Aster looked to be considering something, and he gave Jack a long, level look before he said, "Belief is power, Snowbird. We can't help anyone who doesn't believe in us. Most adults can't even see us. And the kiddiwinks depend on us. Not all spirits have a specialty, but the strong ones do." He paused a moment, hesitation present in the tense, exhausted lines of his body. "The Guardians do."

Jack turned and leaned back on the rock so he could more easily look up at Aster. "What are Guardians?"

"Guardians," Aster said slowly, "Protect children. More importantly, we protect what's inside 'em. Children contain some of the most important things in the world. Wonder. Memories. Dreams." He paused for a moment. "Hope. Every child has a light in them, and when that light is snuffed out, it's disastrous. Without that light, the world has nothing but darkness."

Jack was silent for a minute as he digested that. Aster had said "we". "So you're a Guardian?"

"Yep," Aster replied. "Guardian of Hope, at your service." He gave Jack a wry smile. "That's why it's so important that I get all the eggs out, mate. Easter calls up spring, and spring brings new birth. New chances. Hope."

Jack remembered the year before, the gentle swell of hope within him that Aster's kind words had managed to stir up. All of Aster's steady, encouraging words about second chances. The way Aster had said "just doing my job". He really had been, hadn't he? Suddenly, Jack had to tilt his head down and pretend to examine the lake in front of them. He couldn't stand to look Aster in the eyes anymore. He had no doubt that his skating would improve, not anymore, but a smaller, more private hope inside him was curling in on itself like a page of a book cast into the fire. He'd really been an idiot, hadn't he?

"Oi, Jack." He felt Aster stir behind him, then sit forward so he could lay a paw on his shoulder. "What's the trouble?"

Jack brought his knees up to his chest and looked down at them as if they held the answers he sought. "Nothing. Just something dumb." Seriously dumb. Sure, most pro athletes were attention-seekers to some degree, but apparently he was lonely and foolish enough to think that mythical creatures would find him special.

"Jack," Aster said again, and his voice was low. "I can feel it, y'know. When hope goes out."

Jack's head thumped onto his knees. Seriously? Then he'd been even more transparent than he'd thought. "I just..." He swallowed, prepared himself for the mocking that was sure to come his way. "I don't know. I just felt like we were becoming friends." Or something like it.

"What?" Aster drew away from him, and Jack tried not to let that sting too much. It was nothing he hadn't expected.

Jack raised his head a little so he could scuff one shoe against the grass. "Last time, what you said and-and what you did. They meant a lot to me," he said, humiliation burning through him with the confession. There was nothing more embarrassing than admitting that your feelings were stronger than someone else's. "I didn't realize you meant it when you said you were just doing your job."

"_Ah._" Aster said with such a specific brand of understanding that Jack couldn't help but scowl at the ground. "That's what this is all about?"

Jack nodded, the lump in his throat preventing him from saying anything more. He tried to summon up the TV smile he'd had to use on all those reporters asking "How did you feel when you realized you were out of the games?" That brittle grin that covered up those negative emotions that no one really wanted to see. The "I'm fine!" you answer when people ask you how you're doing, because rarely did people mean those words sincerely. People didn't really want to deal with his issues. They just wanted a grin and a sound bite. He'd thought that Aster was different, but...

"You silly little drongo."

Jack jerked to attention at that. He wasn't 100% sure what a drongo was, but that had definitely sounded disparaging. "Hey!" he snapped. Sure, he'd been dumb, but Aster didn't have to be such an ass about it. He turned to give him a piece of his mind, only to be stopped short when he saw the expression on Aster's face. It wasn't condescending or cruel. If anything it was fond. "I-what?"

Aster shook his head, that peculiar expression still firmly seated on his face. "You really are a right idiot, Jack. Do you really think I tell these things to just anyone?"

"I-" Jack paused for a moment, perplexed. "No?"

"Of course I don't, ya galah." Galah? "I can't remember the last time I told a human about these things."

Jack turned his whole body this time, ignoring the way their feet jostled together, so he could get a good look at Aster. "Seriously?"

Aster nodded. "They're not just my secrets I'm trusting you with, Jack. The four of us work hard to protect the natural way of things, and I wouldn't risk that for someone that I didn't..." he trailed off, struggling for words. "That I didn't care about," he finally finished, though he didn't look pleased with what he'd settled on. "I helped you out to protect hope, but also to _give _you hope. It's the very best gift I have, Snowbird, and I wasn't about to let you sit there and cry without giving you my best."

Jack watched Aster spit the words out, wrestling with emotions as foreign to him as they were to Jack, and he shook his head. He really was an idiot. He felt a grin start to creep up on his face. A total idiot.

"There now," Aster said, taking in his grin with some satisfaction. "All straightened out?"

Jack nodded, still not trusting his voice quite enough to speak, but he scooted closer and angled his body so they could better talk.

"Ace. Now, I believe you asked about the others?"

Jack perked up. "Yeah!"

Aster leaned forward conspiratorially. "Well, there are three other than me. There's the Sandman-great guy, works with Dreams. And the Tooth Fairy-she's a bit flighty, but her Memory work can't be beat. And then there's North," he said, making a face.

"North?" Jack asked, head spinning. The Sandman and the Tooth Fairy were real? What next, Santa?

"I believe the littlies call him Santa nowadays."

"Oh my god. Santa's real?" Jack asked, leaning forward, right up into Aster's space.

Aster rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. Real big, real loud, real up himself..."

"Oh my _god,_" Jack repeated. "You know Santa!"

"Oi," Aster said, starting to puff up. "He's not that great, y'know. He's just an old blowhard with terrible taste in colors."

Jack started to open his mouth to spout out another stunned iteration of _but Santa!_ when he recognized the sulky tone in Aster's voice. That was jealousy right there, or he'd eat his skates. And, he supposed, it made sense that Aster might feel insecure in the face of the glory of all that was Christmas. When it came up between eggs and presents, he doubted most children would pick the eggs. Then again, he was starting to get the feeling that most children weren't getting the same eggs he was from Aster. Remembering the delicate scrollwork on the egg from last year and the intricate little designs on the egg from the year before (both preserved carefully on a shelf next to his bed back in town), he patted Aster's knee. "I gotta admit, Christmas colors are way tackier than Easter colors."

"Right? There's _artistry_ in Easter that that pompous old windbag couldn't hope to match, not with a thousand yetis!" Aster sniffed, exhaustion forgotten in the face of righteous indignation.

"Uh." Yetis? "Yeah. Easter's pretty great," Jack said, and he found that he meant it. Perhaps it was because he had something special to look forward to now, but he'd been looking forward to Easter more than Christmas for the last couple years now. He considered telling Aster that, imagining the way it might make him crow in triumph, but then decided to keep that information to himself. He'd shared enough embarrassing information today, thank you.

"Good man, Jack," Aster said, clapping him on the shoulder and causing Jack to rock forward with the force of it. "See that you remember it."

"You know," said Jack quickly, doing his best to smother the laughter that he was only just holding back, "They all sound really great. I wish I could meet them."

"Actually," he said, tightening his grip on Jack's shoulder and turning a shrewd eye on him. "Wouldn't be surprised if you already have, Snowbird. Have you been having better dreams than usual lately?"

"Um." Jack thought back over the past few months. Yeah, he'd been having much better dreams lately, but he'd been attributing that to his visits with Aster. Ever since they had met for the second time, Jack's nightmares about drowning in dark water had subsided. He'd just kind of assumed that the pleasant dreams could be ascribed to the same thing. "I guess?"

"Yeah, I thought Sandy's been looking shifty lately," Aster said thoughtfully, letting go of Jack's shoulder and leaning back. "Think they might've noticed me changing my patterns."

"Sandy?" Jack asked. "Like as in the Sandman? Your friend the Sandman's been stalking me?" It was official. Jack's life was too weird for words.

"'Stalking' is a bit harsh. More likely he just wants to help. Sandy's always had the uncanny ability to know who needs the best dreams."

Jack snorted. "Sure, okay." Then a thought occurred to him. "He uh. He doesn't see the dreams he's giving people, does he?"

Aster's eyebrows shot up his forehead, but he shook his head. "I think he gets bits here and there, but nothing too detailed," he said. "Why? What sort of things have you been dreaming about, Snowbird?"

Oh, not much. Just soft fur and warm embraces. A companionship that he could enjoy off the rink for once. A maybe-friend who just might think he was worth investigating a little more closely. Just little things that would embarrass him for the rest of his life if anyone else knew about them. "Nothing _that_ bad," he said, looking away. "It's just weird."

Aster still looked curious, but he seemed to have the maturity to know when not to prod. (Which made him different from Jack-he probably never would have let a friend live this down.) "No dramas, Jacko. Sandy's a pro. All of us are, even North. We're good at our jobs, and we like them. He wouldn't go spying on you."

The corner of Jack's mouth twisted up, but he nodded. Not much to be done about it, he supposed. At least he didn't have to worry about the nocturnal visits from the Tooth Fairy anymore. He'd lost the last of his baby teeth long ago.

Aster seemed to remember something then. He sat up straight and made a small sound of inspiration. "Ah! That reminds me. Got something for you, mate," he said, he then he dug around in one of the pockets of his bandolier.

Jack pulled himself up onto his knees. After a few years of this, he thought he knew what was coming.

Sure enough, Aster produced another lovingly crafted egg from one of his pouches. "Here you are, Snowbird."

Jack took the egg carefully and put it up to his face to inspect more closely. This one appeared to have been made with pressed flowers, a dizzying array of colors represented in the blooms decoupaged across the surface of the egg. It should have been gaudy, ugly even, but instead it possessed a delicate beauty. The colors seemed to flow together seamlessly, and he couldn't imagine how many steps had gone into the creation of this egg. Just the fact that pressed flowers had been used spoke to a forethought not usually seen in egg decorating. "I-"

"Easter's late this year, and spring's well underway. Thought it might be nice to stick to the theme," Aster said, and Jack realized with a start that there was nervousness there. All that talk about being a professional and the importance of Easter... Was Aster trying to impress him?

"Aster, this is great," he said, for once allowing true sincerity to bleed into the compliment. "I love it. I'll put it with the others as soon as I get back."

Aster's ears perked up at that. "You've been keeping them, then?"

"Of course I have," Jack replied. Why on earth wouldn't he? They were gorgeous. He'd had more than one friend ask him where he'd gotten them. "I keep them all next to my bed." He paused. "Well, not all of them. That first one was an actual egg, so I had to eat it."

That finally startled laughter out of Aster. "Well, yeah. I wasn't exactly prepared for you that first year. You nearly took a decade off my life when you started talking to me," he said, chuckling at the memory.

"I scared _you? _I was just minding my own business and suddenly there was a giant rabbit standing next to me! I thought I was going crazy!" Jack said, laughing along. In retrospect, it was pretty funny. They'd probably looked like gaping fish for a few minutes there.

Aster just laughed harder at that, and might have gone on for some time if his laughter hadn't been interrupted by a bone-cracking yawn. Oh right, Jack reminded himself. 190+ countries. 2 billion children. Before he could think about it, he reached up to smooth back ruffled fur on one of Aster's long ears. "You seem beat. Do you need to go-I don't know, wherever you go?" he asked, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Aster stilled at the touch, and Jack almost jerked his hand away before Aster butted his head against Jack's palm lightly. "Yeah," he said, and there was genuine regret in his voice that set something thrilling through Jack's body. He levered himself up from the rock and staggered over to a bare patch of ground. "I should probably head back to the warren for some shut-eye."

And that brought up a whole other host of questions, but even Jack could tell that now was not the time to ask them. "Good night, then," he said lamely, wishing he could think up something cool and snappy to set Aster on his way.

"Good night, Snowbird," Aster replied and then did something odd with his foot and disappeared before Jack's eyes. It wasn't until the hole closed that Jack even realized that it had been open, and he stared at the small, unobtrusive violet flower standing where Aster had been. It had been the first time that Aster had actually left in front of him, had shown him the way he came and went, and Jack couldn't help but take this as a good sign. Aster had implied earlier that he trusted him, and maybe this was just another way of showing it.

He looked down at his floral little egg again and smiled. Jack wasn't entirely sure where they were headed, but he had a feeling that it was somewhere good.

* * *

A/N:

Notes on Jack's egg: This time, I went for a decoupage design. Usually decoupage is using a glue mixture (or something like mod podge) to stick paper onto something, but flower petals are also a thing! It would have been pretty difficult to get them on there without the colors running, but Aster's a pro.

I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading. Next time, the big, lonely elephant in the room gets addressed.


End file.
